Drill, Baby, Drill

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DRILL, BABY, DRILL….Daniel Larison watches the Republicans in St. Paul:

When the theme of the convention seems to have been, “Drill, baby, drill,” which is an energy policy in exactly the same way that, “Tax, baby, tax” is a fiscal policy (i.e., it isn’t), slogans are obviously all that the party has left. Even if you think that increasing oil exploration and supply through more offshore drilling makes sense, you cannot really take these people seriously.

Unfortunately, yes you can. This, by the way, was the moment when I completely gave up on the convention. It wasn’t Giuliani, it wasn’t Palin, and it wasn’t McCain. They were just the closing acts. It was when I realized that the most reliable applause line on the convention floor was “Drill, baby, drill.” Even by the low standards of political campaigns, this is a slogan so imbecilic that it makes you fear for the future of the Republic.

Then again, you can hardly blame them, can you? Here is the LA Times doing one of those obligatory man-in-the-street pieces in Uniontown, Pennsylvania:

Waitress Judy Artice, “Miss Judy,” as she is known at Glisan’s roadside diner, declared Palin “the perfect candidate” after watching her Wednesday speech. That said, Artice had already decided that her vote would go to the first candidate who mentioned gasoline prices.

“And — I’ll be danged — it was Obama,” Artice, 46, said between servings of liver and onions during the lunch rush.

Needless to say, Obama will have the same short-term impact on gasoline prices as McCain: none whatsoever. But apparently he won a vote in Uniontown merely by the good fortune of holding his convention first and making sure to mention gasoline prices in his acceptance speech. If that’s what you’re up against, I suppose that “Drill, baby, drill” makes perfect sense.

In other words, we’re all doomed. In the meantime, though, I have named my cat consul of the empire and plan to repair to the living room to watch the Hannah-delayed remnants of the U.S. Open. I might as well enjoy myself while I can, right?